Midnight Sins (28 page)

grunted. “Where’s your houseguest?”

Rafe slid Logan a look of promised retribution.

“Had to run and tattle, didn’t you, Logan?”

“I know; it’s normally your job.” Logan sighed

mockingly. “But you appeared to be slacking this

week, so I thought I’d help you out a bit.”

Rafe almost rolled his eyes.

Logan could be the bane of his existence when

he wanted to be. There were times that Rafe and

Crowe wondered if Logan had ever matured past the

age of sixteen.

As the middle cousin, he seemed to have

inherited Rafe’s father’s sense of practical jokes and

teasing games.

“’Preciate that, Logan,” Rafe drawled. “I’ll be sure

to return the favor soon.”

Logan chuckled as he followed Crowe to the

kitchen table and the coffee.

The two men couldn’t have been more different.

Logan had his mother’s dark blond coloring

rather than the dark Callahan hair. His skin was

bronzed, a trait all Callahan men had, a reminder of

their deep Irish roots. His eyes were the same the

deep pine-green his mother’s had been.

Mina Rafferty Callahan had been slender,

delicate, and winsome. Thankfully, her son had only

inherited her coloring. The rest of him was pure, tall

Callahan. At six feet-two inches tall, powerful and

broad, he could be a mean gutter fighter in the face of

the enemy or project a charming, teasing familiarity

with vulnerable children or frightened women.

Crowe on the other hand, was one hundred

percent Callahan, from his midnight-black hair to his

eagle-fierce golden-brown eyes. His harshly hewn

features could never be called handsome, but women

gravitated to him like bees to honey no matter where

the Callahans went. At the very least, the women

moved as close as possible, as though to draw in the

aura of danger and the oddly shaped crescent

birthmark they all carried on their right hip. He was an

inch taller than Rafe, more than two years older than

Rafe, and always seemed too determined to watch

over and protect his younger cousins, whether they

needed it at the time or not.

Rafe, on the other hand, was a plainer version.

He had the black hair, but he had his mother’s, Ann

Roberts’s sapphire-blue eyes rather than the Callahan

brown eyes. In looks, the men were more like triplets

than cousins, despite Logan’s dark blond hair. Even

as infants they had been almost impossible to tell

apart until Logan’s hair lightened.

Crowe was the image of the Callahan brothers,

Samuel, Benjamin, and David. Rafe missed it only in

the color of his eyes. They were as close as brothers

and sometimes it seemed they shared the same

bond triplets did as well.

Rafe leaned back against the counter with his

own coffee as his cousins poured theirs. Strangely

enough, Crowe sweetened and creamed his, while

Logan took his straight and black. It always seemed

as though it should have been the other way around.

It had always amazed Rafe that his eldest cousin

could be found adding to the perfectly rich, aromatic

taste of the specially grown coffee beans Rafe went to

the trouble to buy and grind himself. It was almost a

sacrilege, what Crowe did to his coffee.

It was the coffee that always seemed to tie them.

Since Clyde Ramsey, Rafe’s great-uncle, had taken

then in, he had taught them the value of coffee, the

kitchen table, and long discussions.

“So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

Rafe asked as he arched a brow and brought the cup

to his lips, sipping at the coffee and preparing

himself. He had a feeling he knew what was coming.

Crowe was there because of Cami.

“I thought you might need some backup.” Crowe

shrugged as he leaned back in the chair, his oddly

colored brown eyes sharp as Rafe met his gaze.

“What kind of backup do I need?” Rafe could

almost feel the tension beginning to tighten at the

back of his neck.

It was damned foreboding. That sense of coming

danger or problems that would result in more trouble

than anyone needed.

Hell, all he’d wanted to do was try to enjoy the few

days fate had given him with Cami.

“They’re clearing the snow blocking the road not

far from here,” Logan said then. “It won’t be long

before they find Ms. Flannigan’s car. And her uncle is

in the lead with the plow. Eddy Flannigan isn’t known

for his even temper.”

Eddy Flannigan simply didn’t suffer fools gladly,

and he sure as hell didn’t tolerate so much as an iota

of danger where his niece was concerned. Eddy

would know, though, that the last thing Rafe wanted

would be to hurt Cami in any way.

Rafe’s lips tightened in irritation at the thought as

he moved to the refrigerator, reached up, and flipped

on the police and emergency band radio he kept

there. Turning the dials, he tuned into the channel he

knew the road crew used whenever they were

clearing snow and wanted to keep their conversations

more private.

It wouldn’t hurt to know ahead of time who else

was on that crew and whatever they may have to say.

“Sheriff, I hope you brought that rifle of yours,” a

voice drawled over the radio. “Eddy may want to

borrow it.”

“Then why are you laughing, Martin?” Archer

Tobias, sheriff of Corbin County, a man who had

once, long ago, been a friend, came over the line.

“’Cause if that’s Eddy’s niece’s car out there like

he thinks it is, then we may get to have a Callahan

killin’ after all,” Deputy Martin Eisner came back.

“Don’t worry, Eddy, I’ll testify for it. Justifiable

homicide.”

Rafe glared at the radio.

“You want me to break your fucking legs,

Eisner?” Eddy Flannigan came back, his voice

entirely serious. “Because I can. And I will.”

It was obvious the deputy was getting on the

wrong side of the smart-assed, wisecracking uncle of

Cami’s.

“Hell, Eddy, I’m trying to do you a favor here,”

Martin snapped. “Those boys work fast, remember?

We’ll be lucky if she’s not already dead.”

“Let’s not allow our imaginations to get out of

control here Martin,” Archer snapped.

“Yeah, that’s what your daddy said when Jaymi

went missing that night too,” Martin snapped back as

the sound of the plow’s motor revved and geared

higher. “You saw her car, Sheriff. That tire—”

“Martin, concentrate on clearing that snow and let

me concentrate on what may or may not have

happened,” Archer snapped back, the heavy

command in his voice working for a minute. “That’s

my job, remember?”

But no longer than a minute.

“We should call out the National Guard and have

them bring the helicopter in. We maybe could use the

help against the three of them boys now that they’re

back from the military.” Eisner sounded worried,

concerned. “Didn’t we hear they were snipers or

some shit?” He was obviously only worried about

himself.

Rafe rubbed at the side of his face in frustration.

Son of a bitch, Eisner sounded as though they were

facing a full battalion of Callahans rather than just

three of them.

Rafe knew the deputy well enough to know for a

fact that it wasn’t worry or concern he was feeling

unless it was for himself. It was pure gleeful

anticipation cloaked with a highly false, somber

demeanor.

“Martin, we don’t need a helicopter,” Archer

promised him patiently. “Eddy, take your plow up to

the house and I’ll drive your niece home, if she’s ready

to go.”

“What do you think he means by that, Eddy?”

Martin questioned with almost rabid curiosity. “What’s

he implyin’?”

“That she might want to wait until the tow truck

shows up to get her car out of the ditch, Martin?” the

sheriff snapped, his patience obviously beginning to

fray as the deputy continued to poke at Eddy’s

temper. That was never a good idea. Eddy’s temper

was short and his fists could be unpredictable. “And

see if you can’t manage to run that plow without taking

out another fence, Martin.” Eddy’s tone was harsh and

filled with disgust.

Logan sat up carefully as Crowe’s face

tightened, becoming stoney and emotionless at the

order Eddy gave the deputy.

They’d spent more than a week replacing the old

rotted and rusted fence. It was obviously a wasted

effort where one fence was concerned.

“Sorry about that. I guess ole Rafe Callahan

should have put those fences in better, huh?”

“I can hear the lawsuits now,” Archer said, his

sigh coming across the radio. “And trust me, Martin, I

won’t cover your ass on this one.”

“Hey, I didn’t see no fence,” Martin’s voice came

back slyly. “Did you see a fence, Eddy?”

“Yeah, I did, and I’m going to be the one to tell the

Callahans’ lawyer what an asshole you are. Asshole.”

Eddy informed him, “It’s no damned wonder the

mayor put you on probation. If we’re lucky, he’ll get rid

of your ass now.”

Archer was silent, and that didn’t surprise Rafe in

the least. It did surprise him, though, that Eisner was

so damned brave in destroying Callahan property.

“One of these days that girl is going to get herself

in trouble taking up with the stray dogs in this county.”

Martin came back with an air of self-importance. “And

if I ever seen a dog, those Callahan boys is three of

them.”

“I just hope for her daddy’s sake she’s okay,”

Martin radioed. “It’s too bad how she doesn’t help him

much with her poor, sick mother. She’s nothin’ like her

sister was, that’s for damned sure. Jaymi would have

been there helping her parents.”

“Fuck you, Martin! You damned little son of a

bitch!” Eddy was pissed now. Real pissed if the tone

of his voice was anything to go by. “Get him the fuck

out of here, Sheriff, because I’ll show the little bastard

exactly what justifiable homicide really is.”

Rafe lifted his head and watched as Cami came

to a shocked stop at the doorway of the kitchen.

Biting off a curse, he moved for the radio to flip it

off and keep her from hearing any more of Martin

Eisner’s stupidity.

She beat Rafe to it. She moved in front of him,

staring back at him in determination. “Let me hear

what he has to say. That’s one of Dad’s best friends,

and he’s not saying anything I haven’t already heard.”

The radio crackled again. “Martin, shut the hell

up.” Archer’s voice was rock hard and filled with